


Out of the Darkness

by miss_aligned



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mass Effect Spoilers, One Shot, Post-Mass Effect 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6712966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_aligned/pseuds/miss_aligned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one knows what happened to Commander Shepard in the aftermath of firing the Crucible, but some are beginning to piece it all together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Darkness

The term ‘memories’ could have been considered a potential misnomer, at best. Flickering images, faces, and words came to mind, but little else. There was nothing to connect or explain them. Something told her that at the very least, she should move. Each time she tried to open her eyes or lift a limb, however, nothing would happen. It wasn’t upsetting or disturbing, but something that struck her as distantly unusual.

There were perceptions had in the many long hours and days of relative darkness. She heard sounds, felt sensations across her badly damaged skin, and smelled the chemicals used to undo the damage wrought to her body. Work was being done to keep her alive, and yet she didn’t care. She lingered somewhere between sleep and death, not bothering to emerge of her own volition.

“Commander Shepard.”

Her mind stirred at the words out of instinct alone. Confusion washed over her then, unsure as to why she had responded at all. It seemed so much easier to just continue in blissful indifference. Those words, whatever their meaning, intuitively began a long, arduous process of fitting together pieces of an abstract puzzle. What had happened? What was going on now? How had she gotten here? Where was she? It was only a brief mention in passing, a story being told, perhaps, and she didn’t hear the words again for a very long time.

Slowly but surely, the pieces began to fall into place. The images that flickered in her mind of war and suffering and fire were ones she’d personally witnessed. Not so long ago, in fact. Given what she could hear in passing as other patients, medical staff, and visitors moved around her, there had been a great catastrophe. She was in very close proximity to countless other gravely wounded victims of the conflict, and many had succumbed to their injuries due to damage of equipment and lack of power in the aftermath.

“Can I help you with something, Major?” A woman’s voice quietly inquired. That was someone who she’d heard a lot in the past… days? Months? She couldn’t be sure. It was one of the medical staff tending to the countless wounded lined up all across the vast space.

“I was just… no. Is there anything I can do to help with… all this?” That voice. That voice pushed her to react, though she didn’t know why. She recognized it, perhaps? The sadness in his tone pulled at her, made her feel some sort of ache that differed from the ones constantly plaguing her limbs and head. Her eyes fluttered. She had to look around and try to understand what was going on… who he was. Everything in her being demanded that she respond.

“We’re managing as best we can, Major, and thank you for the offer. Medi-gel and bandages are going to have to hold these people over until we can get our diagnostic and surgical equipment back online and functional again,” the woman replied.

Eyes finally cracked open ever-so-slightly, but bandages prevented anything actually being seen. The disappointment and confusion were nearly overwhelming. Perhaps remaining in the quiet nothingness of sleep or death would be easier.

“Yes. Of course.” That voice again washed the doubt from her thoughts. “I’m just… going to take a look around if you don’t mind.”

All it would have taken to get a glimpse was a quick swipe of her hand across the bandages. She knew it. Still, she couldn’t muster the strength in her arms to make it happen. They barely had feeling to begin with, so control was out of the question. She struggled against herself for what felt like an eternity before she gave up, knowing he was already gone.

Crippling disappointment made it difficult to want to recover, and the uncertainty over why, exactly, she was so distraught over that voice caused her to slip ever closer to giving up entirely. Peace in oblivion seemed like a simpler solution to this physical, emotional, and mental anguish. Somehow, though, something kept her there, like fighting was a natural instinct. Giving up was, at some portion of her core, an illogical and unlikely option.

She lingered there, in quiet obscurity for quite some time longer. People came and went, the injured recovered or died, loved ones celebrated or wept. There were less bandages wrapped around her own body and more room nearby as she lay still among the remaining patients, but nothing stirred her like the voice she’d heard ages ago. She’d almost forgotten what it sounded like, or why she cared.

“You really shouldn’t do this to yourself, Major.” She almost jumped at the sound. She knew that voice. It had been so long since she heard it, but it felt… it felt like a warm hug to the soul.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Joker. You can go ahead to the service if you really want to. I’ll be there. I just need a minute.” Her fingers twitched. Every fiber of her being was pushing to open her eyes, to unravel the mystery, to make herself known.

“Right. If you think I’m letting you weasel out of Commander Shepard’s memorial service so easily, you’re wrong. If I have to go, then you have to go. Besides, I’m your ride, remember?”

That name again. Her head twitched in reaction to hearing it. She put everything she had into fighting off the numbness, pain, and sluggishness to move. Somehow this felt like a last chance. She didn’t think he was going to come back after this, and if he left again without her laying eyes on him in an attempt to remember, she may very well give up entirely.

“Fine. Let’s just… go. I don’t want you disturbing these people anymore.”

Heavy eyelids lifted, flooding her mind with a blazing light and confusing her further. She blinked, forcing her eyes to focus and follow the direction from which she’d heard the voices. Two men stood in clothing she recalled to be special. It wasn’t the type to be worn for every day occasions. One leaned heavily on crutches. The other…

The other was possibly the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen.

She stared, as much as her heavy eyelids would allow, hoping that he’d turn around so she could see his face. That dark hair, broad shoulders, muscular physique… it all seemed so very familiar. Looking at him made it feel like all of the garbled images and memories were just on the cusp of falling back into place. Her lips moved to try and get his attention, but there was no sound. He was so close… she was desperate to make him turn around, as if her very life depended on it.

Her fingers twitched, but her arm wouldn’t raise. She called out, but no sound broke through to meet his ears. The only thing she seemed to have control over were her eyes and they were glued to him with a fierce intensity meant to force him to turn. To look at her.

He rolled his shoulders and straightened, seemingly preparing himself to handle their next task with dignity and strength. Sadness tugged at her heart at the tiny gesture, somehow recognizing it as though she’d seen it before. She knew it was one of those rare glimpses into his distress when he knew he had to put on a strong front. She didn’t understand how she would know something like that, but she did.

Look at me. Please.

He cast a glance off to his side, allowing it to sweep quickly over the vast room. He turned just slightly, allowing her to see the finer features of his face. When she locked on to those amber eyes she was hit straight in the chest with images, recognition, and comprehension of everything that led her here.

Kaidan.

She remembered the last look that he’d given her before they’d parted ways on Earth. She recalled kissing those lips and pressing her head against his chest when things seemed so overwhelming. He had been something of a forbidden fruit once, while they served together on the Normandy. Her ship. Her crew. They’d all spent ages fighting against impossible odds. She’d sacrificed herself to try and ensure that they would have a future.

She was Commander Shepard.

Her eyes went wide with the realization of where she was and what had happened. She’d destroyed the synthetics and had expected to die doing so. Somehow, she hadn’t. She was in a hospital with numerous other victims of the war with the reapers, waiting to either recover or die. Without the aid of synthetics, it appeared that medical treatment suffered and, apparently, proper identification scans weren’t an option. Otherwise, Kaidan and Joker would have known she was here the entire time.

Shepard’s gaze bore into her fellow Spectre’s back. She still hadn’t the strength or ability to alert him to her presence. His gaze was still sweeping across the room as though he was looking for something… or someone. Her heart leapt into her throat when his amber eyes finally, finally meandered in her direction. It sank again when they drifted completely over and past her. He’d seen her and there had been no recognition. She really must have looked awful.

But then he froze for a moment, as though he was somehow afraid to look back with hope and be disappointed again. His gaze swung back and landed directly on her. The moment it their eyes met, her vision was marred by unrelenting tears.

“Oh my God,” Kaidan muttered, his voice threatening to crack already.


End file.
